


Curse This Bloody Elevator!

by Guess_Who_Is_Back



Category: COD:AW, Call of Duty, Call of Duty: Advanced Warfare - Fandom
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Drama, Idiots in Love, It’s Getting There, Light Angst, M/M, My First Fanfic, Original Character(s)? - Freeform, Slow Build, So Bear With me, This might be long, i think, otp, stuck in elevator, they're ppl I just made up in like 2 seconds lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-11 21:15:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12944091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guess_Who_Is_Back/pseuds/Guess_Who_Is_Back
Summary: Two of our favourite soldiers get stuck on an elevator while on their way to a meeting.Shit happens.





	1. 1 HR & 38 MIN IN ELEVATOR

 Gideon roared a considerably long, colourful string of curse words that could've made any ordinary grown-ass man shit their pants. It even made the relatively calm and collected Mitchell take a slight step back from the distressed man. The loud and continuous bangs from Gideon's kicking (a futile attempt at breaking open the doors. Additionally, they didn't have their Exos) was starting to get to Mitchell's ears, and mind. Gideon's unholy cursing did not make this mess any better. He was almost certain that anyone passing by could hear the older man's muffled screams through the walls, despite that something told him their attempts were fruitless. He hoped he was wrong.

“Gideon, you need to _calm down,_ ” Mitchell said, attempting to maintain a soothing voice even though he himself is getting irritated. It took superhuman willpower to be the calm one in this debacle. Gideon quit his vociferating, whipped his head around and glowered at him with the angriest glint in his steely blue eyes since the time Gideon tripped over an old ass chair up in Detroit as Mitchell burst out laughing. Both Joker and Mitchell haven’t dropped it.

 _“Calm?”_ Gideon snarled, “Calm? Mitchell, we've been stuck in this bloody elevator for a fuckin’ hour! We're missing our briefing!”

“H’yeah, you've been screaming your ass off for the past hour too. I bet you're glad you're missing that meeting anyway.”

Feels like fifteen minutes have passed instead of an hour.

Mitchell heard Gideon angrily fumble with his words as he tried to throw out one of his quippy remarks. Must've used them all in his tantrum, so he silently admitted defeat. If he knows Gideon, he's gonna make him pay for that later...

The brunette let out a long sigh and shoved his face in his hands and back into his soft brown curls. He felt like he's walked right into the next phase of the Universe's “Let's Torture Mitchell” operation. Lately, he's been getting himself into the most awkward, _unfortunate_ , and _shittiest_ predicaments with none other than... you guessed it. The ex-Captain ranked, former Atlas veteran, quick tempered Gideon. Of course the other man didn't and or wouldn't notice his... um, frustration all those times before, but this... This was getting out of hand. Mitchell could hear the “audience” cackle in sadistic glee at what seemed to be the show called his life. Not to mention the faint and distant popping sounds of popcorns popping in microwaves.

They were both in a regular elevator, nothing too fancy except for the large navy blue Sentinel logo that could be seen the moment its doors would open. Other than that, the walls were a metallic, pastel blue. Mitchell stood on one side and Gideon was going ballistic on the other. The young Private prayed that someone— _anyone_ would hear Gideon's aggravated screams and get them the hell out of here, because Mitchell was getting tired of Gideon the "Little Ball of Fury." The little space that was this metal box was too small for the private's own comfort, so he could partially see why Gideon was screaming like an angry six year old who was being denied his favourite toy. Mitchell lingered on the thought and felt a twitch in his mouth. The thought of the older man being an indignant little child was amusing, he didn’t know why. He could imagine Gideon doing just that.

Sadly, he couldn't say that aloud or else Gideon would've turned and socked him clean in the face the way he already did to the elevator doors fifteen minutes ago; A very noticeable dent was now marked on the elevator door and Mitchell raked his mind about the kind of excuse they should make. He snapped out of his thoughts as the yelling came to a sudden halt. He looked over and saw Gideon pace around for a few seconds before pitifully slumping down towards the polished white floor. Admittedly, Mitchell has never seen the ex-captain look so dejected, _defeated._

“What're you doing?” Mitchell asked, looking down at the older man. Gideon glanced up at his friend, his expression saying _“it's all cool”_ but his eyes are saying otherwise.

“There's no use yelling and screaming or kicking, mate... No one’s gonna hear us and I'm not going to fuck up my voice box. Might as well wait,” he muttered, his head lolling back as he closed his eyes. Mitchell decided to sit down across from him, attempting to look elsewhere.

Silence.

There was nothing really interesting to look at except for Gideon. It was hard (in more ways than one) to not look at him; Besides, Jack Mitchell is stuck in an elevator, what else is there to do? The other chap was _eye candy._ Worthy to be in the front on those fashion magazines; Gideon was _perfection_. Does he have a handsome face? Oh dear God, Check. Bulging biceps? _CHECK_. Impressive legs? **_CHECK_**. ~~An unfairly shapely and plump ass? ** _CHECK, CHECK, CHECK_**~~ ; Oh, the list just goes on. And those were only the older man's main features and really, Mitchell could go on and list each and every perfect thing, _detail_ about Gideon until the minute you fall sleep. But alas, he could hear a faint, cruel, and distant _“ha!”_ of an audience cackling at poor Mitchell having found someone so sublime. At this point he wished he could turn towards the “imaginary” audience and _just—_

“Mitchell,” said a thick British accent. Mitchell looked up and hummed innocently in response, totally not daydreaming about the man in front of him and the things he'd do to the oblivious Brit. Gideon watched him and drawled, “we'll be here for _long_ time, let’s talk.” Dear _God, he sounded sexy with that tone,_ the young man thought as he felt blood rushing _down there._ He gave everything in order for it to be suppressed.

“Uh... okay,” sighed Mitchell while bright red dusted his face, not entirely sure about what to talk about, “what do you think that briefing is going to be about?” _Damn,_ he thought bitterly to himself, _how engaging. Very talk. Much social._ Mitchell has had better, _philosophical_ conversations with an apple while on anaesthesia.

“Mm. Probably about ambushing an Atlas camp, giving us a few pointers on which side is best to start the attack, which targets will get taken out, and gathering blueprints, terrain, intel; all that.” Mitchell nodded, scouring his brain for more interesting topics to discuss. He delved deeper into his thoughts but found nothing. At least nothing that could interest the older man. Mitchell reclined back against the wall and looked up hopelessly and closed his eyes shut. _Why today?_ He winced and subconsciously placed his hands over his ears. What was taking maintenance so fucking long? Isn’t it about time they’ve noticed the elevator stopped working? Yes, he could already see Ilona and Joker, their two friends and unit members, attempting to conceal their laughter the moment they received the news. Mitchell could picture them sniggering from when they're finally rescued from the elevator... Assholes.

“...You okay, mate?” Gideon broke the silence. Mitchell managed out a soft “yeah,” but Gideon wasn't convinced.

“...Mm. No you're not.” And with that, Gideon crawled to the same side as Mitchell and settled down next to him.

“Head hurt?” He asked as he turned his head towards Mitchell. Mitchell sluggishly nodded as he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. He was so close. He looked much more attractive this close. The Private actually got lost in his eyes for what felt like infinity, until Gideon cleared his throat.

“Oh. Yeah, it’s not that bad, I'm good.” He assured, the other man oblivious at the fact that Mitchell was mentally kicking himself in the face. Mitchell also took note at the fact that Gideon was being considerate. It's not like it never happens, but it was spectacularly rare. Cold and callous was synonymous with Gideon. If this were a normal situation, Gideon would've sighed and told him to “get the fuck over it” with a light shoulder pat and walk off like the encounter never happened. It'd be hilarious if he did that right now.

“Oh, well you can get over it.”

_Oh my fucking god, are you serious you impassive, obdurate piece of shit, you are so fucking lucky that I fucking—_

“You can rest your head on my shoulder if you'd like.”

**_—Woah._ **

Mitchell looked up and then gazed at Gideon, with a questioning face. Did he hear right? Gideon didn't seem at all fazed, had an excellent poker face and acted as if he constantly asked this on a regular basis... He was _serious._ His intestines- _his heart_ did flips and dance moves that could compare to a gold medal Olympic gymnast. 

“Um, okay.” Mitchell pips as he shifted slightly and perched himself on the other's shoulder. Would've been nicer if Gideon was wearing short sleeves or at least a tank top so that he could feel his skin, but Mitchell wasn't willing to push his luck. This was enough. _More_ than enough.

“Better?” Asked Gideon. Mitchell flinched from the vibrations Gideon's voice sent out, he could listen to it for eternity. His voice was husky, erotic, and deep, and whenever he spoke, every head in the room would turn. He had that rich, silky tone. He could speak huskily and it'd sound a thousand times sexier. He speaks as if he _owns_ Sentinel, his experience clearly showing through. Shit, Gideon could read a Microsoft user manual aloud and it'd be as good as Chaucer.

Mitchell meekly nodded, the Brit's salt and pepper-ish coloured stubble lightly brushed and tickled against his forehead. He secretly took in his distinctive musty aroma that smelled like it was mixed with cologne and something tangy, and it made Mitchell get high. Gideon didn't notice this or say anything else for the next several several minutes and they both stayed in soundlessness, Mitchell enjoying their silence.

“After this, I will never use the damn elevator again, just the stairs from now on,” said Mitchell out of nowhere. He felt Gideon chuckle and nod in agreement.

“Not risking another meeting.”

“Same. What do you think the others are doing?”

Gideon thought for a minute and answered, “probably just carrying on. By now, everyone surely must know that we're stuck.” Believable.

“Alright, what do you think caused this?” Asked Mitchell, looking at the boring light blue metal wall across from them. The older man scoffed and mumbled something indecipherable.

“...Hm, fuck knows. Do glitches affect elevators?”

“Probably, but the elevators here _never_ malfunction, they said it was _'state-of-the-art'._ At least that's what I think they said.” Answered Mitchell. He was seriously starting to doubt the integrity of all elevators. Gideon let out a cold scoff again, this time slightly banging his head against the wall. He shifted in his place to get in a more comfortable position, pushing himself back against the wall and sighed.

“Don't get too comfortable, and don’t you fucking mention this or you’ll have fifty extra practice rounds tomorrow.” Gideon grunted, taking notice of Mitchell's all too relaxed state. Mitchell sniggered at the other's remark as he began to inspect his friend's coyote brown combat boots. He took note of several scuff marks on Gideon's shoe.

“Hey, what's with the smudges?” He asked, pointing at a few markings on the older man's shoes. Gideon examined his shoes for a moment and said, “It happened nearly two weeks ago, we were combating and you scuffed them.”

“...Sorry.”

“It's nothing. What matters is that I put your arse in its place that day.” Gideon said. Mitchell laughed and lightly punched him in his stomach.

 

  
**15:38 HRS / 1 HR & 38 MIN IN ELEVATOR**

 

  
“Come on. There's no one here but us. _No_ is going to know.”

“This game is for fucking _pansies!_ ”

“But we have nothing better to do.”

“ _Fuuuuck_ meee...” droned the angry beanie man, “fine, let's get this over with.” Mitchell pursed his lips at his friend’s sexually suggestive statement, but said nothing. He sighed at Gideon's negativity.

“Alright. I spy with my little eye something that starts with an S.” Mitchell started.

 _“Hell no.”_ Retorted the Brit with a huff.

“Then I won't talk to you for as long as we're stuck here. The _whole_ week included.”

“Impossible. We have to talk about those encrypted files with Ilona and Joker, and you _know_ can't do them on your own.” the older man countered.

Mitchell was getting more and more irritated with the other's stubbornness and continued, “I spy with my god damn eye something that starts with an S.”

“Socks.” Gideon grunted.

“No.”

“Shoe?”

“No.”

_“Sweat?”_

“No... of all things...”

“...Suffering.”

“Nope.”

Gideon looked around, hoping that anything in the cramped space they were in started with an S. He looked to his left and noticed a little dot moving about.

“Mmm,” he hummed, _“spider.”_

Gideon felt Mitchell instantly get stiff, look over and shuffle away from the spider, piquing Gideon's curiosity and giving the Private a curious stare.

“Where,” Mitchell said, making it sound like a statement instead of a question. Gideon cocked a brow speculatively at the younger man.

“There, it's crawling around,” he said as he slowly leaned towards the spider, “‘Daddy Long Legs at that too, it's harmless." Mitchell looked back at his friend with a distasteful glare and looked elsewhere while Gideon furrowed his eyebrows at him in return.

“Are you afraid of spiders mate?” He asked, his voice cutting through the air. The Private glanced back at Gideon and let out a long sigh as if to relieve his panic.

Mitchell fumbled with his words, “I-I’m not scared of them, they’re just... look, kill it... _please._ ” Gideon couldn't help but blink a few times at Mitchell's newly discovered fear. He turned towards the Daddy Long Legs and lifted his foot up to finish it off, until this little spawn of the devil began to fly around; producing its weird buzz-like noises when it crashed around.

It flew closer and closer to the two men.

It was at this moment Mitchell let out a ragged whimper and shuffled away from where they were initially positioned, until he bumped into a wall behind him. There was now a large gap between the two men.

"You're afraid of spiders aren't ya'?" Gideon concluded as he watched the anxious Private before him. The Daddy Long Legs bumped into the wall again, until it crashed its way onto the floor by Gideon. Mitchell shuddered and grumbled things to himself as he watched the elder interact with the animal by carefully placing his hand front of it for it to climb on. They waited in anticipation until the "spider" decided to crawl its way onto Gideon's calloused hand. Mitchell trembled and uttered a disgusted _"ugh!"_ as he witnessed his friend bring the insect close to his face and examine the thing like a scientist would. 

"Bloody thing isn't even _harmful_ , it just eats other crawlies."

 _"Get that thing **away** from me."_  

"As you wish." Gideon lowered his hand down to ground level and let the Daddy Long Legs go.


	2. 2 HRS & 15 MIN IN ELEVATOR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gideon and Mitchell try and talk to each other.

_" **That's** your favorite song?!"_ Exclaimed Mitchell, looking at the man besides him. Gideon sat against the wall and Mitchell was laying down with his arms behind his head in order to cushion it.

Gideon slowly nodded and looked at a wide eyed Mitchell who was laid on the small floor and also, shocked at this revelation.

 _"'It's Now or Never'_ by _Elvis?"_

"Why so surprised?"

_Oh no, I just think that's really cute._

Mitchell shook his head, "Nah, to be honest I thought you were the kind of person who'd listen to hardcore rock or something."

"Well you thought wrong mate. I like jazz music too. Ever listened to Frank Sinatra?" Gideon asked.

"Only some. My dad always danced to his songs with my mom on their anniversary every single year. Twelve year old me would always jump in and we'd all dance together in our backyard as the smell of barbecue wafted throughout our neighborhood." Mitchell smiled at the nostalgic memory of his parents. Gideon smirked at his partner as he recounted the activities he and his parents would do, like going to the beach, going to the local Denny's on weekends, and going to Baskin Robin's whenever he got honor roll or perfect marks in school. Typical domestic stuff. Gideon was glad that he got this (rather unfortunate) oppourtunity to learn something new about the young Private.

"That sounds ace, when I was younger, which... was _eons_ ago, I used to sing."

Mitchell snorted, _"eons?_ Dude you're like a year older than me, you're _not_ old. And... _the_ Gideon Emery used to _sing? God damn!"_

"Yeah, yeah I did! And?"

_God **damn** indeed._

"...And _now?"_

Gideon shrugged, "Dunno, I guess I got busy with serving as a soldier with... that Irons bastard. Never had the time with all the fighting."

Mitchell said nothing and started to hum after a while and said, "sing." Gideon lightly hit the floor with a balled fist and firmly declined Mitchell's request. Mitchell continued to persuade him but the older man was sturdier than a boulder and wouldn't let up to Mitchell's pleads. With a defeated huff., he finally gave up. They remained in silence for an unknown amount of time.

"...Gid?"

Gideon grumbled at the nickname the impudent little piece of shit decided to give him but paid no heed nonetheless. "What?" He asked.

Mitchell inquired, "If you don't mind me asking, where are your parents? You never talk about them." Mitchell took note of his friend's subtle hesitation and increased blinking rate. The Brit looked slightly uneasy but maintained his collected demeanor and cleared his throat as his thought of an answer.

"Dead." Gideon said in a cutting voice.

_**Shhhhhiiiiitt**. Might've crossed a line there._

"..."

"..."

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't-I don't-"

"Oi," Gideon gazed down at Mitchell and revealed a gentle smile that he's definitely never seen in his entire life, "it's alright. Trust me." Mitchell, as discreetly as he could, looked away form his ex-captain to hide the rosiness spreading across his cheeks. He suppressed the fluttering his heart was experiencing because it most definitely wasn't appropriate at the moment.

"Too bad I don't have my phone right now mate. I would've shown some pictures."

 _Shit, if he actually brought his phone I would've got to see a little boy version of Gideon,_ said the little voice in Mitchell's head. He sniggered. 

Gideon averted his piercing blue eyes at the young American, having heard the other's little laugh, "now what're you laughing about?"

"Oh... I really can't imagine you as a kid, man. I can only see you as a.. _mini_ Gideon. Mini Exo-suit, really tiny weapons and guns, probably as tall as a garbage can you kno-"

 _"Alright,_ shut the fuck up already you bloody _dickhead_ before I punch your teeth so far down your throat you will need to stick a toothbrush up you arse in order to clean them," snapped Gideon.  Mitchell roared with laughter at the other's marvelous insult.

"Ooooh, someone's _bitter...!"_ Cooed the younger man as he lightly as he lightly poked Gideon's nose form the ground. Gideon shoved the Private's arm away from his face angrily as Mitchell continued to cackle at the other man's incredibly short temper.

In spite of all, Mitchell kept moving around the small and confined space while making an effort to converse with Gideon. He grew sick and tired of laying down, so he sat up and returned to Gideon who was still in the same spot. It really made him wonder as to how one could sit in the same position for such a long time without their ass getting numb. This has happened dozens of times to Mitchell, and they mostly occurred during back in his Atlas day when meetings and briefings were so damn long and boring. Now that he's in Sentinel, the briefings were much shorter yet more detailed (probably because they assigned someone who _actually_ made briefings interesting), but the meetings were still rather long depending on what the matter was. Occaisionally, several comrades would debate, making the meeting(s) longer than they're supposed to last.

Time passed, and Mitchell felt like someone was warping time to make everything last longer. Considering the situation he and Gideon are in, this was not helping a bit. Mitchell spoke less and less and sat up again, and rested against the wall. 

And suddenly, everything went quiet.

Gideon noticed that it all got silent and that his companion wasn't talking anymore, he was getting used to Mitchell's addictively soothing voice filling his ears. He looked to his left and perceived the young Private with a peaceful look on his face. His usually bright, doe-like azure eyes were closed, and his moist, plump, baby pink lips were slightly parted. Mitchell was sleeping. All this occurred in a matter of ten minutes and he was already out cold. The room suddenly got filled with the faint puffs and even breaths that came out of Mitchell. Intermittently, he'd led out a cute little snort that'd make even the stoic Gideon break out a smile. Of course, without the Private watching.

 

* * *

 

 

**_Snort!_ **

_There it is again. That's the third one so far._

Gideon wondered what was going on in that man's head. Maybe that's how the kid sleeps, but nonetheless, Gideon thought it was the most adorable thing he's seen this whole week. Usually, Gideon and the rest (and other people from different units) would get called down for briefing about god knows what. He would choose a seat, then Mitchell would sit either across or beside him, and Ilona and Joker would be right by them. No matter where Mitchell ended up sitting, Gideon would look (ahem, admire mind you) at him. He'd trace every single curve of the younger man's body, from every strand of brown curly hair on that pretty little head of his to his very feet. The delectable ripples his back made whenever he stretched or flexed, Gideon would take it all in and applaud himself at the masterpiece he's made over the course of a few years. From day one, the Brit knew that the young man was something else entirely. Yes, he already came from the Marines and knew how to do a few things, but he, _he_ was different. He was silent, yet he was strong. Although Gideon deeply resents Irons to this very day, he also thanks Irons for bringing Mitchell in to Atlas at the time he did. Otherwise, Gideon would've gotten grumpier. Gideon would train Mitchell everyday, bark orders at him, correct the way he'd handle specific weapons, and Mitchell wouldn't hesitate to comply. He didn't protest, he did as he was told. 

As Gideon flashed back on the moments he and Mitchell would make even the slightest contact, he heard several movements and shuffles and finally felt something softly rest on his shoulder He snapped his head to where it came from and saw Mitchell, who was completely out cold and was now resting on Gideon's broad shoulder. He must've slowly slid his way down. Gideon felt himself get uneasy for an instant but got himself together.

Wouldn't so bad to sleep for a bit, Gideon reasoned; and he was right. He never got enough sleep. Gideon would always sleep at around eleven and if duty calls, he'd stay up until the asscrack of dawn if necessary. If that didn't happen, then he'd wake at four in the morning as usual, wash his face, get dressed, and went training. On the other hand, this was absolutely _nothing_ compared to that jackass Joker's ridiculously erratic sleep schedule. Joker stayed up all night one time and slept for only thirty minutes, but functioned _too_ perfectly (by too perfectly, that mean's Joker had been way too energetic and said even weirder shit than usual) for the rest of the day. He still proudly claims that he did it for two days straight.

The silence was really getting to Gideon, and thank god that there weren’t any disturbances around to snap him out of the tempting trance he’s now getting sucked into. Subconsciously, he leaned his head on Mitchell’s and dug his face in his mess of curly, soft, luscious brown hair and inhaled the scent. Gideon sighed in content as he breathed in the outlandish aroma of charcoal flames and cinnamon. He smelled _amazing_. Gideon closed his eyes and completely relaxed, and was soon enveloped in an unperturbed slumber with the person he’d rather get stuck with than anyone else in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully everyone's enjoying this so far! Thank you so so much for reading this, criticism is welcome so go ahead and feel free to give feedback *mentally prepares*  
> Little heads up, because this is the first fanfic I've ever written, I really want this to be at the very least decent. Therefore, I might take a long time because of the editing and revising and all that good stuff. Also, I'm shit at making titles, so forgive me on that. Thanks for understanding, and meanwhile, I'll be working on chapter three!


	3. 2 HRS & 35 MIN IN ELEVATOR

Mitchell sat on his friend’s sofa, while Gideon and Ilona were playing with those old board games companies made back in the 2000’s. It was a rainy night and everyone decided to organise a little get together at Gideon’s quarters. Mitchell was in the corner of the sofa with a fuzzy navy blue blanket enveloping comfortably around him, silently observing the already heated board game his friends were playing with. Gideon frowned and grumbled under his breath as Ilona, with her trademark smug expression, watched him grab his piece and move it back four spaces. Mitchell hid his snickering behind the dark duvet.

Joker came out of his kitchen with a tray that had three cups of coffee and a single cup of tea. All three knew Mitchell detested coffee, especially when it was too dark, the way Gideon liked it. Ilona liked hers with a moderate amount of sugar, and Joker went way over the top and added too much sugar and whip cream (which may contribute to Joker’s constant hyperactivity). Sometimes he even adds sprinkles to his unhealthy concoction.

“Beverages are served,” announced Joker, carefully setting the steel tray on the same coffee table where Gideon and Ilona were playing their game. Ilona took her steaming cup of coffee and sipped little by little as she observed Joker struggle. Joker took his along with the cup of tea and sat down right next to Mitchell.

“He ain’t gonna win is he,” Mitchell said carefully taking his hot cup of tea as he spectated.

“Nope.” Answered Joker.

“Maybe I fuckin’ will if you ladies weren’t so distracting!” Grouched Gideon, looking like he’s having an existential crisis as he thought of a plan to get ahead of Ilona.

Joker let out a cold scoff, “Me? Distracting? Please.”

“Mm, yeah? You should hear yourself during our missions, especially during simulations.”

“I give out useful advice.”

“You spoke about a time during your freshmen year where you pranked a colourblind fellow by throwing a red frisbee in a field of green grass who couldn’t find it for thirty minutes.” Mitchell nearly spit out his tea.

Ilona glared at Joker with a brow raised as if to ask if what Gideon has said was true.

“You have no proof I said that, Cap.” Joker replied as he crossed his arms with such surety.

“Oh, you want to bet on that?” Challenged Gideon, “I still have logs from that day, ya’ slob.”

“Try it, old man.”

Gideon sprang off the ground and hurried in another room to get his tablet. Joker glanced over at the Private and chuckled like he knew Gideon was spitting out empty threats. The remaining three waited patiently in the living room for Gideon to come back with whatever device that withheld the evidence. After a long five minutes, Gideon came back to the table with his glass thin tablet and tapped until he came across the logs. He turned the volume up enough for it to be audible and set it on the table while everyone waited for the tape to start. Finally, faint cluttering noises could be heard followed by occasional silences and familiar whispering.

 

  
  [Joker]: Gid

[Gideon]: *rustling sounds*

[Joker]: Gid?

[Gideon]: *more rustling*

[Joker]: Gid!

[Gideon]: Fuck you want?! Huh?! Tryn’a get us killed? Bloody fuckin *unintelligible*

[Joker]: Sorry man, m’just bored is all...

[Gideon]: This is a covert mission! Keep your fucking self entertained by keeping me covered will you?!

_*rustling, some clicking sounds, 10 seconds of silence*_

[Gideon]: JOKER!

[Joker]: I got ya’,

_*suppressed bullet sound*_

_*rustling*_

[Joker]: Hey I just remembered where this one time in my freshman year I—

[Gideon]: What in the name of fuck is wrong with you?!

[Joker]: I saved your ass. Anyway I had a colourblind friend right?

[Gideon]: *deep breath*

[Joker]: We went out on the football field and to play some frisbee and I brought a red one 'cause I knew he had deuteranopia. After a few catches he missed, and he didn’t know where it landed and couldn’t find the thing for like thirty minutes.

[Gideon]: You done?

[Joker]: I think.

[Gideon]: Fuck up, will you? We’re about to go dark. We’ll meet on the other side. Got that?

[Joker]: Oh okay. Wanna get a sandwich after all this?

[Gideon]: Oi—

  
*End of “Log #47”*

 

  
Everyone apart from Joker burst out in a fit of giggles.

“Looks like Gideon proved you wrong!” Chuckled Ilona. Joker grimaced and tightened his grip on the poor cup he was holding. Gideon set his tablet aside as he and the Russian got back to their game.

“You know what you have to do if I win this right?” Ilona said with a hint of excitement in her voice. Gideon grumbled and made his move, moving himself four spaces, putting him right behind Ilona. She rolled the dice and landed a four, only five more spaces until the finish. Both Joker and Mitchell watched in anticipation as they waited for Gideon to pick up the dice and roll it. Hesitantly, he grabbed it and shook it vigorously in his hand, biting his plump pink bottom lip as he prayed for mercy upon the lord to give him that sweet six. Gideon let go and watched the die roll... right onto a five! Gideon smirked and moved five paces up while Ilona shook the die and threw it across the table. All eyes were on the fateful die.

Everything happened in slow motion as Ilona grinned evilly and Mitchel and Joker both chugged their tea/coffee and began to drink whoop and jeer, while Gideon slowly set his head down on the table in utter defeat. Ilona didn’t even need to touch her piece.

As the victor and her friends high fived each other and celebrated, Ilona turned to Gideon,

“Gideon?”

He looked up with annoyance.

“You know what you have to do...” she said, a sly smile curling up on her lips. Gideon visibly stiffened for a few moments and Mitchell could see the regret in his eyes as he glanced at him. The older man slowly stood up so as to prolong what was coming and walked toward the Private with caution like he was going to get bit.

Gideon cleared his throat, “Mitchell?”

“Yeah?” Mitchell asked, sensing something suspicious going on. Gideon continued to look at everything but the person in front of him which just so happened to be Mitchell.

“Will you come with me?”

Mitchell gave his friend a strange stare, but nodded and followed Gideon out of his quarters and out in the hall, where it was dark and no one around. Without exchanging a single word, they continued down the dark hall until Gideon opened a door with a sign which read Janitor’s Closet. Mitchell squinted his eyes at the sign, confirming that something was out of place. He’s never seen the ex-Captain, the best solider in possibly all of Sentinel, the toughest, most stoic person he knew look so... _nervous_. Something serious must be bothering him if it meant Gideon had talk to him in the janitor’s closet _(of all places)_. Mitchell watched Gideon close the door and let out a heavy sigh as he dimmed the lights. The Private looked at Gideon, watching his chest heave with each breath he took in. Gideon looked perfect, Mitchell wanted to cup his hands and feel the other man’s prickly stubble. He shook off those thoughts, thinking that what Gideon might say would be far more important.

“Gideon, is something wrong?” Mitchell inquired. Did something happen to him? Was it the death of a good friend? Gideon turned to look at him, again looking at the ground like he was having deep thoughts about something.

“Gideon, are you—”

Gideon Emery crashed his lips onto Jack Mitchell’s.

The younger man’s azure blue eyes widened as his brain—his nerves tried to process what was happening. Everything went hyperaware, taking in everything from Gideon’s touch, to his unique scent of cologne and cigars and something tangy. Gideon’s arms slithered around his neck, latching on to him as he slowly kissed, as if he was unsure what would happen next. He felt stiff.

At this point, Jack Mitchell didn’t know what to do. At all. But one thing he did know was that he simply had to kiss back.

 _Oh my fucking god, oh my fucking god, oh my fucking god,_ was all Mitchell could think.

And so he did.

Gideon immediately relaxed and lathered his tongue over Mitchell’s delectable lips and demanded entrance, and Mitchell obeyed, their tongues touching and joining together as they both began to sigh into each other. Gideon moaned, slid his calloused hands right up into the younger’s soft curls, and pressed himself into Mitchell. He could feel Gideon’s stubble lightly brushed and tickled against his face, feeling the exact same way he always imagined it would feel, but way better. Mitchell hefted Gideon up, forcing the the shorter man to lock his perfectly toned legs around him, and backed him against the wall.

Mitchell pulled away, out of breath, and rested his head on Gideon’s neck. Gideon chuckled and held him back.

“I thought you were going to sock me in the face there for a moment,” Gideon said into Mitchell’s broad shoulder, tilting his head and smelling the other’s hair. Mitchell giggled, lifted his head up and pecked a sweet kiss on Gideon’s lips.

“Jack...?”

Oh shit! Gideon’s strangely quiet voice set him off the edge. Mitchell could feel his manhood get hard. The warm lighting only added to the effect. ‘Oh fuuuuck,’ he thought as his breath hitched. Mitchell could feel himself subconsciously buck into Gideon.

Gideon laughed seductively, “easy there mate,” he took his shirt off, revealing his ripped and toned body, his rock hard six pack (and dick which was beautifully sticking out), and perfectly constructed arms. Gideon locked his mesmerising eyes with Mitchell’s, who was breathing heavily, slowly got down to his knees and began to rub a steady hand right on Mitchell’s throbbing dick which was underneath his pants.

_Cue audience nosebleeds._

Just the thought of this British man, on his knees for pete’s sake, as he got ready to suck _him_ off?! Mitchell resisted to cum this early off. He threw his head back as he was already clutching Gideon’s short peppered locks and helplessly whimpered. Shortly after, the older man yanked his grey sweatpants and plaid boxers all the down, exposing Mitchell’s glistening erect wet cock. He hissed as the cold wind hit his manhood.

Finally, after taking in the view, Gideon grabbed Mitchell and passed his tongue over his head, making the Private loll his head back and let out a long, sonorous groan.

“That’s it, _sing_ for me,“ Gideon whispered as he took in all of Mitchell’s throbbing cock.

And everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;)


	4. 2 HRS & 53 MIN IN ELEVATOR

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone here writes like a pro, and then there's me. It sets my bar pretty high, but I'm not sure if this is decent. Please forgive my writing skills, I'm still trying to get a grasp on how to write action scenes. As always, criticism is always welcome, and a little warning: it's kind OOC (big oof). Accept my trash writing and attempt at angst

Ever since Mitchell was a boy, he liked having dreams. Dreams are successions of images, ideas, emotions, and sensations that occur involuntarily in the mind during certain stages of sleep.When Mitchell was in middle school, he'd mostly have dreams involving his then crush going out hiking as a date. Other times he‘d have wicked dreams involving him and young Will kicking ass and saving the world from impending doom. Mitchell thought he was invincible. He believed they were invisible. He believed nothing would happen to him and his best friend, that nothing on this earth would tear them apart. Youth is a beautiful thing, isn’t it?

 

Never did he think he’d be saluting, standing over Will’s own casket. What was the point in continuing to draw breath?

 

No matter what he did differently in the dream, the outcome would be the same. No matter how many enemies he’d kill, how hard he’d pull at that cursed latch, even if he’d try and convince Will to give him the charges, the result always, always remained unchanged. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't do anything right. Nothing would go right.

 

_Why didn’t I put the fucking charges instead? Why didn’t I pull harder? Why didn’t I try harder? Why did I get to live?_

Guilt sat not only in Mitchell’s chest but inside his brain too. What he had done he couldn’t undo. He could make amends in subtle ways, but confession was out of the question, even when washing the grief away using alcohol. Mitchell ran dozens, if not already hundreds of possible scenarios where they all got out safe. He clung to these possibilities and hung the shreds of his sanity on it. Guilt was like ice in the private’s guts. It could be a hundred degrees out and he’d still be frozen on the inside. Unable to melt it on his own.

 

Will would pull Mitchell close and look at him with those knowing, scared yet calm stormy grey eyes. “I’ll see you on the other side," he roughly whispered before he shoved Mitchell from the Havoc Launcher.

 

Mitchell's bright blue eyes unfurled wide with shock as he saw Will—his beacon of light consumed by fire. His hand reached out, kissing the morose sky while he plummeted to the Earth.Hitting the ground like a wet rag, he was launched back again from the shockwave of the explosion. The edges of his sight blackened, Mitchell clenched his jaw—not giving a damn whether it hurt—he was determined to stay awake, but he was paralyzed; rendered immobile.

 

He could hardly see anything, everything, even the fire looked hazy. Mitchell saw a man stumbling through the smoke of the crash, yelling his name. Cormack.

 

"Mitchell! _Mitchell!"_ He yelled as soon as he saw him, _"Badger-Two is down, I need immediate med-evac!"_

 

Cormack heaved a piece of debris and threw it to the side, "hold on," he said. Cormack gazed down, a look of pity suddenly taking over his face.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Mitchell jumped from his poor friend’s shoulder, who jolted awake faster than a cat in ice-water, panting and sweating.

 

_What have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done what have I done_

 

“...chell...?”

 

He could still hear it. The explosion.

 

Mitchell could feel his ribs heaving as if bound by ropes, straining to inflate his lungs.

 

“...-itchell...”

 

His head was a carousel of fears spinning out of control, he wanted to run; he needed to just freeze. Sounds that were near felt far away, like the private was no longer in his body—

 

_“Mitchell!”_

The man in question blinked. Gideon was sitting up again, more alert than Mitchell’s ever seen him all week. The man’s pools of blue tiredly stared through Mitchell, who willed himself to steady his breaths but to no avail.

 

Instead, he managed a smile, masking what was really going on. “Yeah?” he said as naturally as he could.

 

Gideon continued to stare, his expression turning into veiled concern. He's seen that before. The first time was right after he got his new arm installed back in 2054 when he first joined Atlas. "I'm okay," Mitchell assured with a smile. Gideon wasn't one to press, so he left him alone. The second time was when he reunited with Mitchell and Ilona after his betrayal. "It's alright, I'm fine," Mitchell assured with an unnaturally normal face. The desolate eyes and almost robotic tone from the Private scared the shit out of the ex-captain. Later that day, he found the boy sitting in his quarters, hands in his face. Just sitting there in silence, sniffling in the dark. Why the fuck didn't he barge straight inside Mitchell's room and tell him he's the finest human he's ever seen and met? He was too scared. Gideon will never forget the silent scream coming from Mitchell's seemingly calm face from that day. He made the wrong choice, he _hurt_ the people he loves and he'll never forgive himself for giving in to that psycho Irons bastard. This is the third time--and hopefully the last time he'll hear Mitchell say "I'm fine."

 

“Mate...” Gideon idiotically blurted, “are you alright?” Fucking idiot, he was clearly NOT okay.

 

“Yeah,” Mitchell croaked out, rubbing his face with both hands. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s okay,” he managed out, laughing hollowly.

 

_I should’ve moved quicker._

“...You don’t sound okay, mate.”

 

_Should’ve pushed him off._

 

“Nah,” Mitchell kept smiling, his voice wobbly, “I’m-I’m fine.”

 

**_It should’ve been me._ **

 

The younger man bit his lip hard enough that it should’ve drawn blood. He couldn’t breathe. Mitchell balled his fists in his hair and he felt his nose clog up.

 

**_Why did I do it?_ **

 

“I’m fine... _really... fine,”_ Mitchell’s voice broke as a single tear slid down from his warm, ocean blue eyes, followed by another one, and another one, until soon, a steady stream of salty tears flowed it's way down his pale cheek, releasing the sadness and sorrow that has been held inside of him for all this time. Yet still, he did not make a sound.

 

On instinct, Gideon got on his knees and gently brought Mitchell in for a hug, cradling the boy’s face as he tried to hush him. The poor man cried as if the ferocity of it might bring his best friend back; as if by the sheer force of his grief Will’s death would be undone. _“I’m fine,"_ he repeated, _"I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine—“_

 

“-Calm down,” Gideon tried to be as gentle as he could. Mitchell responded by letting his trembling body sag, his muscles become loose. The private was as delicate as glass right now; if not handled carefully, it’d broken forever. Not knowing what to do, Gideon watched as Mitchell became undone before him, watery streaks falling down his warm face. He smoothed his friend’s now chaotic brown curls and wiped the tears from his cheeks which were now blotchy and mottled. Mitchell’s whole face was now washed with a dull red, including the very end of his nose. 

 

“Mitchell, It was a dream, _it was only a dream—“_

 

_“—I couldn’t fucking save him!”_

 

“Mitchell, It wasn’t your fault!”

 

“If I-If I _hadn’t—“_

 

_“Jack!”_

 

The doe-eyed man flinched at the use of his first name, like he hadn’t heard it in a long time. He let his red-rimmed eyes close as he sniffled into his sleeves. Mitchell let out a shuddery sigh.

 

“Jack..." Gideon breathed, hoping he wasn't crossing a line, "...you can’t change what’s already been done. You can’t change the past.” Mitchell squeezed his eyes shut, like he was hearing something unpleasant. “What matters is the present. You’re here now—”

 

 _“No!”_ Mitchell lashed, whirling around “No, Gideon, you don’t get to do that! You don’t know what it’s been like!”

 

“Mi—Jack, I know but—“

 

“But what?!” Mitchell's eyes were narrowed, rigid, cold, hard. At that moment Gideon knew he was already far away.  _"But what Gideon?!"_

 

The Brit chose his next words carefully.

 

“I’ve lost people too.”

 

The private’s gaze darkened, a wave of sorrow washing over his tear-stricken face. 

 

“I’ve lost countless men to war, Mitchell. Good men fighting for the wrong side. We trained to fight the fucking evils on this fucking rock and not one of them made it—I was the only one who did. Fuck me-I don’t know why, I don’t know how I did it but I did.” Mitchell sat crisscrossed and wiped his cheeks with the palms of his hands.

 

“Every single fucking day, I think about what I could have done differently—what I could’ve done to bring them back home! But this is all—this is all I know. This is the only thing that I’m familiar with—war. Why do you fucking think I’m like this?!” Gideon snarled, “Do you fucking think I’m this cold bastard because I want to be?! I do it so that I don’t get close to people because in the end, I know that I’ll get hurt. Mitchell, you—I’m-“ the Brit’s voice cracked, “I’m scared.”

 

The private looked up, a shocked bright blue eye peeping through an opening between his fingers.

 

 _Did he just say he’s scared?_  Maybe they weren't that different? The Private doubted it but continued to listen nonetheless.

 

“I don’t want to lose Ilona, or that Joker... and--and I don’t want to lose you. I almost did... you remember, don't you? After Hades... the maintenance room... Ever since you came along I’ve been avoiding you, but you just kept coming back... and you’ve been worrying the fuck outta me and I...”

 

“...and you what?” Mitchell asked, making it sound like anything but a question. He watched Gideon hesitate. Gideon almost never was at a loss for words.

 

“I—you-“

 

“...I what?”

 

“Fuck me—you’re really making this hard, Mitchell.”

 

“No, no,” the private egged him on, “you can continue, I mean—”

 

“You want me to continue?”

 

“Only if you want.”

 

“Fine then, I’ll continue,” Gideon grimaced and muttered cursing under his breath. “Private Jack Mitchell?”

 

The American rubbed his eye and looked at Gideon weirdly. _“Yes...?”_ He answered, unsure. He honestly wasn't sure what to think of this anymore. It's been a rough day.

 

“There’s no other way to put it," Gideon wryly laughed as he brought a hand to his face " _Fuck_ feelings, mate.”

 

Mitchell snickered. “Fuck... feelings, _mate_." He ruefully mocked.

 

“You don’t understand. There’s no other way to _put it._ ”

 

“What, fuck feelings?”

 

“No, you bloody—never mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life's been so busy; I just moved and that got in the way of my writing. Anyway~ in the meantime, I'll get back to things and maybe return for some edits here and there on the story, including writing up chapter 5. Dunno how long this will last, but I'm having way too much fun lmao


	5. 3 HRS & 10 MIN IN ELEVATOR

“Gideon?” Mitchell called, breaking the silence.

“What?”

“...”

“What?” The other man said, a tad annoyed.

“mmmh... I’m really sorry.”

“Sorry?” Gideon repeated, confused, “for what?”

“For... you know. What I did.”

“What did you do?”

“I kind of went off on you. Back there I mean,” Mitchell gazed down, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”His dark brown forelocks hung over his big, azure blue eyes. _Aw_ , Gideon thought, biting his cheek as he watched the regret wash over the lad like long slow waves on a shallow beach.

Gideon closed his eyes shut and murmured, “just don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault anyway.”

A heavy silence settled over them, thicker than the uneasy tension in the atmosphere. And then the two of them, alone in their social anxiety, sat quietly and awkwardly not exchanging a word for several minutes. Someone would occasionally fidget.

There was no noise, not even a pin dropping. The fluorescent light was getting to Gideon. Each time he blinked, he felt like everything was surreal. Like this wasn't real, that he'd wake up in his bed and that this was all just another shitty nightmare.

“Didn’t really know that about you,” Mitchell finally spoke up out of nowhere.Catching Gideon’s piercing gaze, he watched as Mitchell pursed his lips. He could kind of tell that he regretted it.

“What are you on about mate?” Gideon asked flatly.

“I didn’t know that you push people you like away on purpose.”

Gideon gazed at his feet. It was a mistake to even tell Mitchell.

“I didn’t know you were scared, and... and that you actually have a heart.” The young man gibed.

Gideon yanked his beanie off and launched it at Mitchell, who tittered cheekily as he dodged it.

Both men eyed each other for three seconds before they completely lost it, giggling boisterously as they rammed into the other, taking fistfuls of each other's clothing and attempting to wrestle the other to the ground. Mitchell grinned as he shoved Gideon with a grunt into the wall and gripped both his friend's arms. 

Gideon's pink lips slithered into a sly smirk as he growled,  "oh no you don't" into Mitchell's ear before flipping him over, now gripping both his hands above Mitchell's head in a tight lock. Their noses were almost touching, and they could feel the other's warm breath puff onto their faces. Admittedly, it took every ounce of Mitchell to not bite his lip.

"I should be the one saying that," Mitchell giggled as he thrust his friend away using his Exo-suit, making Gideon stumble back. Regaining his balance, he teasingly leered at the young Private as his hand darted and twisted Mitchell's flesh arm, making the boy yell. 

“Fuck, stop!” Mitchell gasped in between strained laughs as he unceremoniously wriggled from Gideon's iron grip and chucked his beanie on his face.Mitchell scrambled to the other side of the elevator, weak at the knees and shoulders bouncing in unrestrained, bubbly and raucous laughter.

"I give I give I give!" Mitchell wheezed as he was backed into a corner by the short defiant man.

“Fuck me, I’ll-I'll get you back once we are out of here, you bloody idiot!” Gideon rudely quipped as he picked up his abused beanie.

"Look at what the fuck you did! _I'll-_ " Mitchell doubled over at the sound of Gideon's voice cracking, _"CRIKEY MITCHELL, I WILL-"_

Giggles began to roll out of Gideon, seemingly being held back for a second only to build up and break to the surface once more.


	6. 3 HRS & 13 MIN IN ELEVATOR

Gideon rubbed his face which then ran through his now messier black-blonde hair as he sat back down with a heavy sigh.

"Oh my god," Mitchell chortled as he looked up at the small ceiling.

"That was cheating."

"Was not! I was using my resources!" 

"It was supposed to be a fair fight, mate."

"You do realise  _you have your fucking Exo-suit too, right?!_ " Mitchell yelled as Gideon pulled his beanie onto his head.

“Hey...” Mitchell began, his voice sounding a tad rouch and squeaky from his giggling fit, “why do you always have that hat? You look better without it.”  _Better_  without the hat? Fucking understatement of the year. Gideon looked hot without the beanie. Even more so with his messy hair. Mitchell could only imagine how smoking Gideon looked in the mornings, with his salt and pepper locks all messed up and tousled with, but he could save those thoughts for another time.

Gideon paused, slid the black hat off his head and began to examine it like it was flawed. Mitchell realised what he said.

"Didn't mean it in a bad way," he added quickly, "I was just wondering."

The shorter man held the black beanie with both of his calloused hands and smiled a little smile. One Mitchell hasn’t seen much anymore. It was strange.

“Friend gave it to me when I was a Private,” Gideon told.

”Private? Where are they now?”

”He gave it to me in battle.”

 _Ah shit,_ Mitchel thought as he bit his lip, hoping he wasn't treading on thin ice again. 

“He has a wife and boy now. Retired. Haven’t really heard much from him and I couldn’t contact him.”

 _Whew_. Sometimes the doe-eyed Private wondered if he had bad luck. He had to wake up earlier than usual today for that bullshit meeting, Gideon was already salty when they met up, even more so when Joker called in to inform that they were being briefed by Hendricks (a great Sentinel operative whose very competent but sounded like he was reading a Walmart rulebook), now he's stuck in an elevator of all things, with _Gideon_ of all people, and now this ugly ass Exo-suit is getting hot, tight and sticky in more places than he'd like to admit. Yeah. Mitchell was bad luck alright. Or maybe his pessimism showed through his actions. He didn't know which.

Mitchell sighed, pushing his thoughts away. "That’s actually really nice," he replied, "settling down and starting a family... I wanna go and settle in Santorini some day. Have a kid or two... a regular job maybe?”

“You just described paradise, mate.”

“It’d be paradise if you'd share it with someone.”

“True.”

“Do you want to have kids?”

Gideon glances upwards, eyes visibly widened, mouth pursed but slightly open and loose. His steel blue eyes were fixed as if he's looking at something a yard behind Mitchell's head. He called his name, and he blinks, refocuses. _Fuckin’ hell,_ he thought, his mind stirring. Gideon had no issue with kids; in fact, he loved kids and was okay with talking about them. But the question caught him off guard like Ilona’s dumb bitch Halloween pranks. It came out of the blue... or did he just not see it coming?

Nonetheless, Gideon decided to answer honestly. “I don’t mind them.” He finalised, glancing up at Mitchell who clearly watched the whole thing. He was tapping his fingers together, forget-me-not blue eyes curious and all.

“Okayyy...” said the young man, shifting in his place, “you don't mind them but would you like to raise them?”

_”With who?”_

”Dude, it’s a rhetorical question.”

_What the fuck—these questions were weird._

“Raising kids?”

”...yes. Raising kids. Would you raise kids?”

”I would, and I’d try my best to raise them.”

Mitchell raised his eyebrows ever so slightly as he observed Gideon squirm and fidget with his stupid hat and the light tint of pink on his cheeks. The corners of the Private's mouth slightly curled upwards, as though he was straining to not bust out a laugh. Maybe Ilona’s little psychology lessons were useful after all.


	7. EXTRA ~ Cats are Great

 

Based off a comic I read somewhere..

 

1/7/19 Update: I’m a dumbass and I’ve corrected the problem which prevented the image to show. Here it is ! :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back again with 2 new chapters and this extra I found the time to make! Might as well get a few chapters done right now because I'm not exactly sure if I'll have the time later on... but anyway! Hope you've liked these chapters, more will be coming soon and thank you, everyone, for the positive feedback. This has been a wild month and I just got my earplugs stolen >:'( fml
> 
> tysm!! <333


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